I Was the Foolish Heiress. Now I’m the Executioner

"It's all my fault. If you're angry, then hit me instead."

The second Nadine said it, Victor's expression softened like butter on a hot plate.

"Nadine, I'm sorry," he murmured, and there it was, just the right touch of guilt in his voice. "I was too harsh just now."

He reached out and brushed a hand through her hair, gentle and full of warmth, as if she were made of spun sugar.

"You meant well," he told her. "How could I ever hurt you?"

Then Victor turned to me, his expression calm and his voice steady, as if he was trying to manage two unruly children while still appearing like the good guy.

"Selena, Nadine did this for your sake, too. Don't take it to heart."

And just like that, with a single line, he erased every bit of the humiliation I'd just experienced, as if it never happened. As if none of it mattered.

Later that evening, around halfway through the banquet, Nadine stood up with a bright smile and offered a small gift box. Her voice was sweet, and her tone was light and casual.

"Selena's been through so much these past few years," she said, practically glowing. "So I went out of my way to get this protection charm from a little mountain chapel. They say it brings peace and keeps you safe."

Immediately, the room erupted in praise. Everyone started raving about how thoughtful and kind she was. Even my father, Robert, looked on proudly, as if she were some spiritual angel dropped into his life. Still wearing that sweet smile, Nadine reached toward me, her hands blindly feeling the air as if she were trying to help me put it on.

I was the only one who noticed the carving on the side facing me, two thin, stark lines of words:

'May the bitch die a painful death. May the whore's corpse be torn apart.'

I slapped her hand away.

"Don't touch me."

Nadine gasped like she'd just been shot, and immediately staggered back.

"Ah… my foot!" she cried, voice cracking like a little porcelain doll. She twisted, fell dramatically to the side, and landed right into Victor's waiting arms as he rushed to catch her.

He held her like she was made of glass and looked at me, his expression dark and furious.

"Selena, what the hell are you doing now? Why are you acting up like this again?"

Then came a sharp slap across my cheek that struck with more fury than force.

My father hit me.

"You piece of shit!" he snapped, eyes blazing. "Nadine lost her sight because of you, and she still doesn't hold it against you. She even prayed for your sorry ass. And this is how you treat her? I used to wonder why the rehab staff beat the hell out of you, but now it makes sense. If this is how you act at home, I can only imagine the crap you pulled over there. You earned every damn hit."

I didn't move. I didn't even blink.

Not because the slap hurt. It didn't.

It was the absurdity of it all. The way they all played their roles was so natural.

I laughed. Quiet. Dry. Without humor.

"'I deserved it,' huh?" I said, my voice cool and biting. "Then how about you take a good, hard look at what your precious daughter had engraved on that protection charm she gave me?"

Victor and my father both instinctively turned to Nadine.

For just a split second, Nadine's expression faltered. Panic flickered in her eyes, but she recovered fast. She dropped her gaze, blinking quickly as tears welled up.

"Of course it was a blessing," she whispered, her voice trembling like she could barely stand hearing the accusation. "I knelt outside the chapel all night to have the master write those words for Selena himself. I didn't know she'd hate it so much…"

Right then, Nadine dropped her head lower as she said again, "It's all my fault. Everything I do seems to upset Selena. Maybe I should die. That way I wouldn't keep hurting her."

Then, out of nowhere, she reached for a fruit knife on the table and turned it toward her own stomach.

"Stop it!" Marilyn shrieked, diving forward and wrenching the knife from Nadine's hands before it touched skin.

She wrapped her arms around her daughter and began sobbing as if she were auditioning for a soap opera. Her voice cracked as she wailed.

"Oh, my poor Nadine! How did your life end up like this? You're a Stone, too, but you're treated like garbage—bullied, insulted, and called a bastard like it's something you chose to be!"

Then Marilyn turned her glare on me, her voice cutting and vicious. You got down on your knees until they bled to get that charm. You can't even see, and you still have nothing but love for that ungrateful brat. But some people? They're born strays. It doesn't matter how much you feed them; they'll still turn around and bite you.

At her words, the whole room turned against me.

Immediately, everyone turned toward Nadine, their eyes swimming with sympathy and pity.

When they looked at me, the pity in their eyes twisted into contempt.

"Is Selena, like batshit crazy or something? She's always going after her sister," someone muttered. "So what if Mr. Stone had an affair? Nadine's mom married him. She's his wife now. Why keep calling Nadine a bastard?"

"I've never liked Selena. She's arrogant as hell. She has already been beaten for years and still hasn't learn a damn thing. You can tell she's rotten to the core. Did you see her scars? Disgusting. No wonder Victor's trying to get rid of her."

From the corner of the room, one of Victor's business partners moved forward. He looked over at him, clearly annoyed, a smirk of condescension pulling at his lips.

"Mr. Blackwell, is this really the woman you're marrying?" he asked with a cold laugh. "Look, no offense, but our companies are about to finalize a major deal. If you're tying yourself to someone who assaults her own sister and comes with a file full of 'rehab' records, the media's gonna have a field day. I might need to reconsider signing the agreement."

At that moment, my father—the highly respectable chairman of Stone Corporation—suddenly brightened with a smile, practically rushing to fix it.

"You've got it all wrong," my father said quickly, laughing like none of it bothered him. "There's no way Victor would marry that disgrace of a daughter. Their engagement was dissolved a long time ago."

He motioned toward Nadine, still curled in Marilyn's arms, continuing her flawless act.

"His fiancée," he announced proudly, "is Nadine now."